


Sympathy for the Devil

by meghanisadweeb



Series: Satisfaction [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (sort of), Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, My Bad Attempts at Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meghanisadweeb/pseuds/meghanisadweeb
Summary: Thomas has never done this before.Alex has.Neither of them was expecting this.(Formerly "Contretemps")





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas Jefferson is nothing if not a considerate person. He tolerates Hamilton's bullshit on the daily, he watches James's wife's little brat whenever they ask him to, he doesn't complain about Washington's obvious favoritism, and he doesn't fuck around on his phone during meetings too often. He's so considerate that he's actually going out of his way to ask Hamilton if he's alright. 

  
  
Falling asleep in a meeting? Probably not a good sign, even for someone who hardly ever leaves the damn office. He's got no idea how the man even functions. It doesn't seem like he ever sleeps, and he changes his ridiculously expensive clothes maybe once a month. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

  
  
Thomas barges in without even thinking to knock, frowning. "You know, Hamilton, if you end up starving to death or dying of exhaustion I won't have anyone to piss me off and yell at from across the room." He realizes then that Hamilton looks absolutely awful. Not that Thomas spends an excessive amount of time looking at him, but this is a new low. "When was the last time that you slept?" He raises an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. He doesn't care. Of course he doesn't care. Hamilton's just a colleague. If one cog goes out, the entire machine fails. That's how it is.

 

Alexander was spending his time in his office attempting to force himself to stay awake, eyebrows furrowed and face resting in his hand as he scribbled random markings on his paper, groaning every once in awhile as he realized that he messed up due to drowsiness and out of a state of mind. 

  
  
The man hardly slept anymore. There was too much work and too little time. Plus, he always managed to convince himself basic human necessities did not apply to him. His saving grace now was the ridiculous amount of coffee he drank. As a matter of fact, as of the moment, it would be his 5th mug that day. And noon had just barely hit. 

  
  
Alexander jumped at the sudden bang of someone barging into his room, slowly closing eyes snapping open wide in surprise and body jerking awake and going tense. In hearing the familiar southern drawl, he rolled his eyes and groaned before settling his gaze into a glare on none other than Thomas Jefferson' face. 

  
  
"Have you ever heard of knocking, Jefferson?" He simply replied, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair a bit, arms crossing over his chest. "And I don't quite see how that concerns you or why you thought it a good idea to barge into my office to ask such a stupid question." He raised an eyebrow, not keeping the scowl off his face, even in his tired state.

 

"Have you ever heard of caffeine withdrawals? Didn't think so. Maybe you should save some coffee for the rest of us, yeah? Or are you so fucking self-absorbed that you can't even spare some human decency and- That's not my point. I don't actually remember my point, but I do remember having one. I came in this godforsaken office for a reason. Probably not a good one, but nothing could compel me to willingly step foot in this goddamn dump-" Thomas cuts himself off for the second time after realizing that this is pointless.    


  
Hamilton is too fucking headstrong to even acknowledge that maybe he isn't the healthiest. It's past irritating, honestly. But he could tame that spirit, make that ridiculously tiny man beg and whimper and, no. Thomas is going to stop himself right there because he's not about to get a boner over Alexander fucking Hamilton.

 

Alex looked at Thomas with wide eyes. He gave a short laughed, leaning his head to the side. "Honestly, Thomas, that was the most ridiculously stupid composure of words I've heard out of your mouth in a long time. It's a bit refreshing, honestly." He grinned, leaning forward a bit and resting his arms on his desk. 

 

He hummed, rubbing his temples for a moment, caffeine-induced migraines tending to hit him a lot of the time. Usually, he just took some Advil and ignored it, getting back to his work as quickly as possible. He shrugged it off this time, however. Not going to further show Jefferson how obviously distressed and unhealthy he truly was being at this point. 

  
  
"Anyway, I don't get how you do all this. You work constantly. How do you even get motivated enough to do all this? Is it Ritalin? It's Ritalin, isn't it?" He laughs to himself, shifting just a little. Fuck Hamilton and fuck his obnoxiously cute face.

  
  
"Jefferson, no. I don't use drugs to keep myself motivated. I simply know that I want to be the best in this place, and I want to prove I'm better than _ you _ , more importantly. And that's enough motivation to keep me going for a week at least." He shook his head. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to get back to that work now, and you're making it slightly difficult to do so. So, if you'll excuse me." He waved at him dismissively, taking a sip from his mug of coffee before picking up his pen and resuming what he was doing before he was interrupted.

 

“You're a dick, Hamilton.”

 

“And you're a drunk.”

 

“I'm just concerned. When was the last time you went home and got a good night's sleep? When was the last time you took a shower? Forgive me for thinking that you need to take care of yourself.”

 

Alexander sighs, shrugging. "I don't know, honestly. I tend to sleep at the office a lot. Don't tell Washington." He quickly added in. "And there aren't really accessible showers. Though I could really use one right now, I guess." He looks up at Thomas, eyes droopy and lazy, his mind slightly fuzzy and dreary, a bewildered expression making its way onto his face. "Jefferson, ya know, for someone who's trying to convince me you don't care if I'm slowly killing myself, you're doing a fairly poor job of it." He looks at him pointedly before shaking his head. "Anyhow. I'm perfectly healthy. I think. As long as I'm at least getting some food in and water every once in awhile, I should be good. Did you know giraffes only need 5-30 minutes of sleep out of a whole 24 hours? I am a giraffe, Thomas Jefferson." He smiled slightly. 

  
  


"You're actually not a giraffe, though. You're an extremely idiotic human that really, really needs to sleep more. Washington won't know as long as you go home, eat a meal, take a shower, and get a good night's sleep." Having something to blackmail Hamilton with has Thomas's head right in seconds. "And if you don't, I can and will drug you. There's no competition around here. You're stupid, but at least you're passionate about your stupidity."

  
  
"You can go back to your office now. Stop worrying about my habits of torturing myself for the sake of work. Go bang Madison or something. Make yourself useful. Toodiloo." He waved his fingers at him before rolling his eyes and continuing his writing, eyebrows furrowing as he muttered a few things to himself.

  
  
"I've actually never fucked Madison. Shocking, I know. He's also kinda married? With a stepson? So that would put a damper on the whole love affair thing. Maybe you should go fuck... Whoever people think that you fuck." He knows that people think that they're in some very fucked up relationship. James had asked him when he was going to propose, and only in a half-joking manner.

  
  
"And for the sake of your work? This is fucking gibberish! At least most of what you write is at least intelligible! I can't read this because your handwriting has pretty much turned to chicken scratch, and if this is how you work when you're sleep deprived, you should never be sleep deprived again!" Shit. He's started shouting without even realizing he's doing it.

 

Alex looked up at him with wide eyes at the sudden outburst of loud shouting, winding as it only helped for his head to continue pounding. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at his work, realizing Thomas was actually right. Though he hated to admit it, the Southerner couldn't be more correct. Hamilton's handwriting was even at the point of being unintelligible by his own perception. 

  
  
"Jefferson, listen. If I could sleep right now, I would. But I can't risk getting behind on work and/or completely missing assignments. Plus, I've already drunk my weight in coffee today, so sleep is most likely an impossible feat at the moment. Try again next time." He huffed, setting his pen down, realizing that writing anything would get him nowhere. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest as he looked up at Thomas. "Are you done here? Telling me how severely unhealthy what I'm doing is? Because if so, you can return to your work. I probably can find something to keep me occupied that doesn't have to do with writing on my computer or something of the sorts." He made one last dismissive gesture before turning to said computer and starting it up.

 

"I- You're- You're so fucking frustrating! Fine, slowly kill yourself. Overwork yourself until I get the call from Washington that I'm going to have to put on an uncomfortable suit and pretend to be sad at your funeral. See if I give a shit." Thomas crosses his arms, blowing his face out of his hair with a sharp huff. "Haven't you figured out that I'm trying to help you, or are you clueless about that, too?!"

  
  
He sighs, turning towards the door. "For everyone else's sake, please just go home tonight. I'm not the only one that's noticed that you haven't exactly been performing at one hundred percent recently." Thomas says quietly,  shutting the door behind him so carefully it was almost surprising, even to him. He feels almost... dejected. Like he's let Alexander down. But that can't be right, because... Because he doesn't care. He just doesn't.

 

Alexander groaned in frustration, burying his face in his hands. God. Why was Jefferson so angry? Alex couldn't comprehend it. All the man had done was say that he didn't need help and that Thomas could go back to whatever he was doing before barging into Hamilton's office uninvited. Alex shook his head, letting his hands slowly slide down his face.    


  
"Goddammit." He muttered, allowing his computer to finally start up completely. He decided he'd send Jefferson an email. Not apologizing, no. Of course not. Alexander refused to ever apologize to Thomas Jefferson. But perhaps something that would ease the tension. Alex was typically the one to blow a fuse, not Thomas, so it was a bit surprising his co-worker seemed so bothered.

  
  
'Dear Jeffershit, 

  
Listen, I get it. I'm not taking the best care of myself. But like I said. I'm not dying (that I know of) and I probably don't have anything to worry about. Just calm your pretentious, over-worrisome ass, alright? I'll sleep at some point this weekend probably. Just calm down, and don't say anything to Washington. 

  
Love,    
the best worker in this goddamn place'   


  
Alexander hit send with a small smile.

 

-

 

Thomas is pretending to work when he gets an email from Hamilton. He snorts a little at it, and decides that there's nothing hurt in responding to it.

  
  
'Dear Tiny,

  
We're all dying, but you're going to be the Usain Bolt of dying if you don't start taking care of yourself. I won't say a damn thing to Washington as long as you promise me that you're actually going to make an attempt to shower, eat some damn food, and sleep. That's all that I want.

  
Sincerely,'

  
  
He pauses, thinking things over. Whatever he puts is obviously going to be sarcastic as fuck, and there's no harm in trying to be funny. He deletes 'sincerely' with a chuckle.

  
  
'Love,    
Your one true love and mortal enemy.'

  
  
They're like Batman and the Joker, Thomas thinks. Not that Cesar Romero bullshit, the good one. Heath Ledger.

 

-

 

Alexander was keeping himself busy, hands flying over the keys of the computer, typing out whatever popped up into his mind as he received the notification. He couldn't keep the grin off his face when he opened said email, reading over it, his smile only growing as he finished. 

  
  
Alex hums, tapping his chin in thought, before typing out a response, although un-needed, he couldn't quite feel like teasing wouldn't hurt, considering he was bored out of his mind anyway.

  
  
'Dear Mr. Actual fucking tree,    
  
Okay, first of all, I'm not tiny. You're just overgrown and probably a hybrid human-tree thing made in a lab. I'm average (don't fact check me on this.)    
  
And my my, Jefferson. I wasn't aware you harbor such undying feelings for me. I'm flattered. Though, if you were my one true love, I believe I may have to place a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger. (Though something else could be preferable ;)  )   
  
Love,    
The only good you'll ever get' 

  
  
Alexander snickered to himself as he sent the message, shaking his head before going back to typing whatever random things popped into his sleep deprived and caffeine-induced state of mind.

 

-

 

Thomas giggles - actually giggles - when he reads Alexander's response. This isn't going to change anything, he knows that much, but it's all in good fun. What bad could come out of it?

  
'Dear Mr. I Use Emoticons Because This is 2008,   
  
Alas, I've been found out. I'm the product of a top-secret government project to splice the genetic material of plants and animals. I was the first human project. I'm one-fourth redwood, one-fourth oak, and one-fourth mahogany. Now that you know my secret, I'm going to have to kill you.'   
  
He rolls his eyes at his own joke, resting his chin on his hand. This is almost easy, almost like he's talking to a friend.   
  
'And if I was your one true love, I would turn up dead within an hour of enduring a night with you. Not because the acts themselves were bad - just because I wouldn't be able to stand your morning breath.   
  
Love,    
Lord Poofington Tallboy of Foreston'

  
  
He presses 'send' with a final snort.

 

-

 

Alex can't help but laugh at the message he received back, shoulders actually shaking with the force. He claps a hand over his mouth and shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing through his nose to control his laughter. He slowly lowers the hand, a large grin on his face, before typing a response. 

  
  
'Dear Lord whatever the hell that was,    
  
Emoticons are still cool, little man. ;) :P xD XD ;3 :3 ;P :/ -_- >v<   
See? Case proven.    
  
AND I KNEW IT! I knew it was impossible for someone to naturally be that ridiculously tall. Good to know. Also, please do attempt to kill me. I crave death. (Joking don't get your panties in a twist)    
  
And the fact that you would have to die because of something EVERYONE has, thank you, is so ridiculous it's almost laughable. Don't act like I'm the only one.    
  
On a more serious not, shouldn't you be working or something? Ya know, annoying everyone in the office isn't going to do itself. You should probably get back to that.    
  
Love,    
;) '

  
  
Alex hits send and shakes his head, continuing his random typing and humming to himself, taking a few sips of his coffee here and there.

 

-

 

Thomas shakes his head with a grin that goes from ear to ear. He hasn't laughed this long in... Weeks. 

  
  
'Dear Sleepless Shortington of Tinyville,   
  
No. Is there an eggplant emoticon? Didn't think so. Now get out of my face. There's an emoji equivalent to every emoticon. So.   
  
I refuse to kill you because then Washington would kill me because he's sucking your dick or something. And a murderer wouldn't look good for his brand.   
  
I'm not saying that I would die because you have morning breath. I'm saying that I would die because it would be so disgusting. Do me a favor and wake up first so you can brush your teeth.   
  
While not everyone can be three weeks ahead on paperwork, I AM caught up. I have all the time I need to bother just you.   
  
Love,   
You're coming home with me tonight'

  
  
He writes the last line without even really thinking about it and hits send without so much as reading his email over.

 

-

 

Alex starts snickering as he's reading the email, but stops as he reaches the bottom. His eyes widen a bit before furrowing in confusion, his head cocking to the side. He slowly starts typing back, still a bit stumped before progressing into his usual, quicker type. 

  
  
'Dear these name are fucking ridiculous how do you come up with them,    
  
Keep your filthy opinions away from my emoticons. ;) is just as good as that winking emoji. Step off. Eggplant emojis aren't needed.    
  
I was not aware Washington was sucking my dick. That might be something I should know of, though. I'll make sure to ask him about it next time I see him to help relieve my confusion on why he hasn't told me he's been sucking me off. Thank you for informing me.   
  
I brush my teeth every day thank you so much prissy pants. And I wake up early (if I sleep) so don't worry.    
  
Do you honestly plan on taking me home tonight, Jefferson? -_- Just need to know beforehand so I don't plan to spend another night at the office.    
  
Love,    
Now severely confused' 

  
  
Alex hits send, after a good bit of hesitation, with his eyebrows still furrowed and his head cocked to the side. He slowly folds his hands and places them in his lap, now watching his screen intently for a new message.

 

-

 

'Dear I'm just better than you at literally everything,   
  
Eggplant emojis are clearly needed. How else am I supposed to send you a dick without actually sending you a dick? It's like the peach/ass emoji.'   
  
Yes, sexting like overly horny teenagers. Couldn't be more important. Thomas can't help but smirk a little at how ridiculous he is. How ridiculous all of this is.   
  
'He's been sucking your dick since before I was even hired. The rules just magically don't apply to Alexander Hamilton. Instead of Alexander the Great, you're Alexander the Most Amazing Human Being to Ever Grace the Planet.'   
  
He stops short when he reads the next paragraph, his face falling a little. Shit, he should have deleted that. Seems rude to offer and not follow through, at any rate.   
  
'If you want to, yeah. I'm not going to wine and dine you or anything, but you could use a good night's rest and some real food. And a damn shower.   
  
Love,   
Patiently awaiting your gratitude for such a kind offer.'

  
  
His finger hovers over the send key for a little while before he decides that it's as good as it's going to get.

 

-

 

Alex jumps a bit at the new message pop-up, his eyes widening and his fingers scrambling over the mouse and keys to quickly open it. He scans the message for a good few minutes, actually, deciphering over every word. He hums in thought before typing back a response. 

  
  
'Dear oddly offering me your home now (probably because I'm just that good),    
  
Your weird need for the use of sexual emojis is not going by unnoticed. Like a teenager, Thomas Jefferson. That's exactly what you are. (Though I always stated you were immature.)   
  
Last I checked Washington has not had the ability to get my pants around my ankles yet, but do let him know he is welcome to try. (Once again, kidding. I'm not trying to get fired.) I'm only "Alexander the Most Amazing Human Being to Ever Grace This Planet" because I'm just that good. Thanks for noticing ;)'   
  
He hesitates over the keys for a moment, fingers twitching as he thinks hard about what he says next. He finally gives into his will and lets his fingers do their thing.   
  
'In relation to your little (oddly rude in some way) invitation to your home, I'll see you after work. Which you need to get back to doing.    
  
Love,    
I'm probably not sleeping again tonight so prepare to stay up and probably get your ears talked off :)'

  
  
Alex sighs as he hits send, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands over his face, a soft groan leaving him.

 

-

 

'Dear Generally a nuisance but not so bad on the eyes, either,   
  
Thomas Jefferson is, in fact, my name. And being generally childish is my game. Or do I just like pissing you off? Good question. It's probably a little of both.   
  
You're Alexander the Most Amazing Human Being to Ever Grace the Planet because Washington adopted you or some shit. Tell me your secrets, tired child. Or maybe you are fucking. If you were, I doubt that you'd be telling me. Conspiracy theory: George Washington is an alien and you're his human spy. This is all a ruse so he can get intel for his invasion.   
  
And, just to be clear, I'm'

  
  
Thomas stops himself short. He's not about to ask Hamilton to have sex with him. He can't ask Hamilton to have sex with him. He's Alexander fucking Hamilton for Christ's sake.

  
  
'And, just to be clear, you will be sleeping tonight. I'll give you NyQuil or some shit if I have to. You need sleep.   
  
Love,    
I can't believe I have to mother you know'

  
  
Crisis averted, Thomas can go back to work. Or, he can try. The problem is that he can't stop thinking about Hamilton. That annoying mouth of his stretched around him. Someone so willful giving himself up willingly. Shit.   
  
Yeah, he has no chance of getting a damn thing done.

 

-

 

Alex bites his lip as he reads the next message sent to him. He sighs, scanning the message a few times before typing his response. 

  
  
'Dear Mother Jefferson,    
  
Yes. You've caught us red handed. Washington's an alien and I'm his human spy. AND we're fucking. It's all coming together now, yes?    
  
NyQuil doesn't really work on me, and unless you're going to force it down my throat it's probably not going in my system. It's the demon drug for the weak who for some reason need sleep. Do I seem like that kind of person? Right. Didn't think so.    
  
I'll see you after work, like I said. Or not. You're always welcome to change your mind before I torture you for the rest of the night.    
  
Love,    
I've run out of quirky things to say'

  
  
Alex continued to chew on his lip, eyebrows furrowed and drawn in the middle of his forehead as he thinks it over. Yes, the proposition to stay the night with Jefferson just so he can finally go to sleep is odd, to say the least. But surely it couldn't have underlying tones. Thomas Jefferson would never. Jesus, Alexander would never. But he'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about it. About Jefferson's large hands roaming over his body, tangling and tugging in his hair, pinning him down, making him comply-and he's going to cut his thoughts off now because he does not need to be uncomfortable for the rest of the work day. 

  
  
He groans a bit louder, shifting in his chair a bit. Too late. He just got a boner for Thomas fucking Jefferson. And now he'd have to, uncomfortably, ignore it. But it's not as if it's happened before. He can handle a bit of discomfort for the rest of the day. It'll be fine. 

  
  
He starts to continue his work in an attempt at a distraction as he does every time, and thankfully it practically works, though his thoughts are interrupted by sudden images he has to push down, of course.

 

-

 

Thomas decides that replying isn't going to do any good. He's said everything that he could possibly have to say, other than propositioning Hamilton outright. That's not really his style, though. Goddamn, Hamilton is going to be in his apartment. Taking a shower there, hopefully. He's going to be naked in his bathroom. Fucking shit.

 

  
And... Now he has a boner. Great. He has a hard-on for his obnoxious coworker. Today just couldn't be going any better.

  
  
He looks at the door to his office with a small frown. He could always go get himself off in the bathroom, right? At least then his pants wouldn't be uncomfortably tight. Fuck his anatomical response to a vulnerable, attractive, and mouthy Alexander Hamilton. He could shut him up. Thomas is certain of it.

  
  
He'd be so pretty when he was begging. God, he can almost hear his voice, breathy and low and a mantra of curse words and 'please'. 

  
  
Shit, he needs to take care of this, and he needs to do it before he comes in his pants like a goddamn teenager. This is ridiculous. He's thought about Hamilton before, but never like this.

  
  
He eyes the box of tissues on his desk with a small frown. Getting himself off in his office is something he can honestly say he's never done. But there's a first time for everything, as far as he's concerned, and there's no possible way that he could get to the bathroom without scarring an intern. 

  
  
He doesn't let himself think about Alexander. That would just mean that James could say that he told him so. 

  
  
Fuck, he's in deep.

 

-

 

It doesn't take long before Alex is having the same thoughts, eyes flashing between the door to his office and the box of tissues on the edge of his desk, attempting to figure out which option would be best. He could normally ignore these things, wait for them to go away until either he was alone at the office or home, but the knowledge that he'd be in Jefferson's apartment later, just the two of them, was enough to make him a bit needier than normal. 

  
  
So he makes quick use of his hands, propping himself up on his knees in his seat and loosening his belt. One hand moving to gingerly stroke at himself and the other being coated with his own saliva before he starts fingering himself as well. He finds it helps move things along faster, especially when he's in a tight predicament. It doesn't take long for him to be biting his bottom lip to keep his noises at bay as he comes in his fist. He sighs, cleaning himself up and making sure everything looks clean and neat again, as if nothing happened. 

  
  
He isn't ashamed he's done this before. A few stressful days at the office called for some relief. But it had never been quite that bad, and never that bad over Jefferson. 

  
  
He quickly calms his beating heart and actually feels the edges of sleep pulling at his brain, as it typically did post-orgasm for him. He shakes himself awake and quickly downs the rest of his coffee to keep him up, smacking his lips. God, he wishes the day would just hurry up and end so he could just get to Thomas' apartment and get the slow torture of not  being able to actually sleep with him while over there. 

  
  
In his free time, he starts sending random memes and stupid articles Jefferson, one about different trees and their heights, another about why humans couldn't perform photosynthesis (Alexander's caption below it reading: They don't know about you :) ).

  
  
Alex just continues doing things to try to pass the time, praying to God the day would just hurry up and end.

 

-

 

Thomas gets himself off quickly, almost clinically. When he's at home in bed and lets himself fantasize, he draws it out more, but he's not. He just needs to get his dick to be soft again and he'll be fine. This isn't about pleasure, it's about practicality.

  
  
He laughs quietly to himself when he reads everything the Alexander has been sending him. He even types out a few responses, but nothing nearly as long or as detailed as he was sending before. If he starts to think too much about Alexander he's to start to think too much about the fact that the little immigrant going to be in his home later.

  
  
The day does eventually come to an end, even though it feels like it lasted about a week. He enters Alexander's office without knocking once again, a small smirk starting to pull on his lips.

  
  
"Are you done? Scratch that, I don't care. If you had a say in when you were finished working, you'd never leave the damn office." He presses the power button on Hamilton's computer and motions towards the door.

 

Alex was perfectly content with telling Thomas that he needed about 30 more minutes to finish up whatever he was working on when the computer was shut off. He practically whines like a child that had its toy taken away, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms.

 

  
"Do you have any preferences for dinner? Because if you want anything that isn't macaroni and cheese or vanilla ice cream, you're up shit's creek without a paddle." Thomas raises an eyebrow. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that the room smelled faintly of sex.

  
"Yeah, yeah. As long as you have a coffee maker and something edible I should be good, don't worry." He hums, walking around his desk and standing across from Thomas. He inwardly cringes at the fact he doesn't have an excuse for actually having to look up at Thomas now, instead of just him sitting in his desk.

 

"Wow, Jefferson. How rude. Barge in without knocking and then just start laying your filthy paws on my things. Way to make a good impression for your guest for tonight." He rolls his eyes and stands up, making quick work of gathering all his papers in his satchel, including his laptop. He sighs as he finishes, looking up at Thomas. 

  
  
He gestures to the door dramatically, one hand holding the strap of the satchel and the other doing said motion. "You gonna lead the way? I have zero idea where you park or anything of the sorts, and I refuse to get my vehicle anywhere near your apartment. I don't need it infected." He raises an eyebrow up at him.

 

"I'd much rather get my filthy paws around your dick." Thomas mumbles, eyes going wide when he realizes what he's done. Shit. He shouldn't have said that. He really, really shouldn't have said that. Now Alexander is going to think that he wants to fuck or that he's only doing this so they don't have to do it in the office.

  
  
"Absolutely." He decides to pretend that he didn't say anything, changing the subject as quickly as he can.

  
  
"Awh! You're even tinier than I remember! I think that all that coffee is stunting your growth." He rests his elbow on Alexander's head, effectively using him as an armrest. He chuckles quietly to himself, leading the shorter man out to his car.

  
  
"Just throw your stuff in the back." Thomas shrugs, opening the door for Alexander.

 

Alexander tries to ignore the fact that he swore he heard Thomas say something about getting his paws around his dick. Key word: tries. He manages to get to the car without saying much of anything, hands gripping his satchel strap tightly. 

  
  
He takes Jefferson's advice, climbing into the vehicle and throwing his bag into the bag. Throwing, more like carefully and softly tossing. He wasn't going to risk hurting his computer. That thing is his baby. He'd die without it. 

  
  
He waits for Thomas to finally come around to the driver's side and get in before slowly turning to him, arms crossing over his chest and a defined eyebrow raising. "So, what was that you said about wanting to get your paws around my dick? Because I'm a little shocked at your boldness, Jefferson." He grins to cover up the fact that his body is already starting to take interest, and he crosses his legs for more assurance to himself. 

  
  
He cocks his head to the side, shit-eating grin never leaving his features. "Ya see, I always knew I was irresistible. Even the great Thomas Jefferson wants me. What's next?" He laughs slightly, almost on the verge of a giggle from his nerves.

 

Thomas could bang his head against the steering wheel when Alexander brings up his comment from earlier. It was crass and gross and something that he never should have said. He swallows, pushing down a lump in his throat that he didn’t know was there, and turns to the other man. “I, um. I think- You’re a good looking guy. And I wouldn’t be against us maybe hooking up? I guess? We don’t have to, but…” He murmurs, sounding completely and distinctly like an idiotic teenager with a stupid crush.

  
  
“I mean, why the fuck not? But I refuse to bottom, so… I seriously hope that you don’t have a problem with me topping.” He has to get his goddamn head back in the game. Alexander hasn’t had a shower in a few days. He hasn’t slept for what looks like a week, and he probably hasn’t eaten anything for a few days.

  
  
“But you’re showering first. And you’re eating. And then you’re going to sleep straight after, you hear me?” He narrows his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he’s seriously relieved by his own words. He’s not totally morally bankrupt.

  
  
He has to have a plan about this. Since this is more than likely going to be a one-time thing, Thomas is going to have to be very, very certain that he sates whatever random hunger he suddenly has for Alexander. 

  
  
Shit, he’s in deep.

 

Alexander's eyes widen and his breath hitches at the very blunt words Thomas speaks with. He finds himself actually a bit shocked, hands fisting in the bottom of his shirt tightly as he tries to compose his mindset. It seems all he can do at the moment is stare at Jefferson with wide eyes and an open mouth. 

  
  
He slowly composes himself and closes his mouth, biting his lip and nodding. "Y-yeah. I mean..yeah. Sure. Perfect. Yeah." He stammers out, actually at a loss of words for once. He honestly didn't think Thomas was being serious, and was actually quite ready to do the cheesy thing and pinch himself to see if he was dreaming. But if he were dreaming, it would've skipped to the fun part by now. He knew this by experience. 

 

  
"Yeah, I don't typically..Yeah. I bottom. Pretty much all the time. So it's cool. That's my specialty, haha." Oh my God, shut up Hamilton. He can't help but to mentally scold himself at the way he sounds like an idiotic, flustered teenager. He clears his throat, leaning back in his seat and looking out the window. 

 

  
"Shower, food, sex, sleep. Got it." He mumbles, keeping his sharp gaze outward, attempting to ward off the redness on his cheeks. "Won't be a problem." 

  
  
He chews on his lip anxiously no fiddles with his hands in his lap, actually not having something to say for once.

 

“You look like a damn fish, Hamilton. Shut your mouth before you catch flies. But it’s not so bad, at least that’s an improvement on your constant blabbering about nothing.” Thomas snorts, though he’s a little bit nervous. Was that too mean? What if that was too mean. “Honestly, if you want something to do with your mouth, I have a few ideas.”

  
  
“Anything that you’re not really… Comfortable with? Or that you want to do specifically?” He bites his lip, because maybe that was just a little bit too blunt. “‘Cause I’m pretty kinky, but I’m not going to pressure you into anything if you want to do this vanilla.” He focuses on the road with a blank expression. 

  
  
Relax, Jefferson. Relax. He wants to do this with you. He wants to have sex with you. You’re going to have very hot sex and then he’s going to get a good night’s sleep and then it’ll be fine.

  
  
“I’ve silenced Alexander Hamilton. Pinch me, I think that I’m fucking dreaming.” This is usually about the time that he wakes up, cold, alone, and painfully hard. He never gets to the good part, to the fun stuff. He never gets to see Alexander’s pretty faces or hear his moans and he certainly never gets to make him beg.

 

Alex snaps his gaze over to Thomas, allowing his eyes to roam over the man's features, taking in every little detail about him that he was never quite able to before. Not without an excuse, at least. 

  
  
"Erm, yeah. I'm actually into a lot of kinky stuff. So, don't worry there. I'm pretty much down with everything. And vanilla sex is a no go. I'm not trying to be bored, alright?" He attempts at speaking confidently and arrogantly, per usual, but kind of fails. 

  
  
He allows himself to go quiet for a few more moments, thinking everything over in his head. He tries to think of every case scenario for how this could turn out. That perhaps Thomas is tricking him. Is going to get Alex home and naked and then laugh at him as if he's actually sleep with him. He shakes his head to clear the thoughts. No. They're doing this. And god, Alex is already practically hard thinking about it. But he keeps his legs cross and continue fiddling with his fingers. 

  
  
"So, yeah. And that keeping my mouth occupied thing? You might actually wanna try it sometime. I've been told I'm pretty skilled with my mouth in more ways than just talking, Jefferson." He smiles to himself and leans back in the seat, relaxing a good amount.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

When they pull up to a very nice apartment complex, Thomas parks in front of the door and tosses his keys to a plucky-looking teenager. A curt nod to the doorman and a short elevator ride later, they’re in Thomas’s apartment.   
  
“It’s not much, but it’s home. Come on, into the shower. I’ll get you some stuff of mine to sleep in, but it’ll probably be way big on you, and I’ll send your clothes that you’re wearing now downstairs.” He’s herding Alexander towards the bathroom mere moments after they step through the doors.   
  
“Get undressed and I’ll show you how the shower works.” While he’s looking down at Hamilton, he suddenly realizes that his lips look very, very soft and that he would very much like to kiss those lips. So he does. Thomas pins the shorter man against the wall and kisses him hungrily, with teeth and tongue and he’s practically breathless when he pulls away.   
  
That was… too good. He’s not one for true love and all that hippy-dippy bullshit, but that was a feel-good teen movie level kiss. The kind where the straight white girl’s leg pops up because apparently kissing requires extreme balance.

Alex stared up at Thomas in shock, breathing labored and chest rising and falling in big shows. His hands pressed on the wall behind him, palms tight against the flat surface. He slowly swallows, attempting to get some kind of reasoning or thought back into his head, the kiss leaving him fuzzy-minded and weak-legged.    
  
"Thomas.." He whispered breathlessly, legs close to trembling, lips feeling almost bruised but also tingly and right, feeling as if he could still feel the other's plump ones move against his own. He wanted that again. Though he keeps himself at bay. 

"Alexander..." Thomas says almost mockingly, diving in to press his lips against Hamilton's once again. He nips at the other man's lips and smirks when he pulls away. "You're not a bad kisser, all things considered." He sounds ridiculous, and he's blushing bright red. He has a damn crush on Alexander Hamilton. This isn't good.   
  
He reaches a hand up and wipes at his own lips, cleaning them of saliva. He coughs a bit, looking away, his face aflame and eyes wide. "I, uh..that.." Alex tries to find a way to describe what he's both feeling and thinking but can't. He sighs, before slowly reaching down to his shirt and pulling it over his head. He proceeds to do the same with his pants, tugging them down before hesitating at his underwear.    
  
"You wanna just show me how the shower works now and then walk out so I can finish or something?" He says without thinking, mentally facepalming himself.  _ God, Alexander, you're going to be fucking after this _ . He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, laughing a bit awkwardly

Thomas inhales sharply when he sees Alexander's (mostly) naked form, certain parts of his anatomy starting to show interest. "You're, um. How are. Just... Wow. You look different than what I was expecting. It's a good different." Hamilton doesn't look as close to death as he'd been expecting.

Alexander rolls his eyes and huffs. "I told you I'm perfectly healthy." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest before following Thomas to the shower to pay attention to how he could control it. He nods every once in awhile to show he understands, though he shifts on his feet every once in awhile as he can practically feel the glances and once-overs he's given. 

“Hi, perfectly healthy, I’m dad. Seriously, though, the only reason that I’m surprised is because you don’t take care of yourself in any way, shape or form. If you ate enough, I wouldn’t have thought that you would look like a walking skeleton.” Thomas snorts, letting his eyes flit over Alexander’s stomach and his legs and his arms, trying to commit every single detail to memory. This is going to be fodder for his late-night fantasizing for weeks, probably. 

Alex brings a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes widening as he snorts and shakes his head. "Dad jokes made by someone who isn't even a dad. Perfect." He rolls his eyes, though can't keep the smile off his face. He can't help but squirm a bit under Thomas' gaze as he's observed, face flushing deeper.   
  
He walks Alexander through the process of turning the shower on and changing the temperature, staring at him for most of it. He's just amazing looking in pretty much every single way. While he could use a good scrub, he's nowhere near a sack of bones.

Alex nods once Thomas is finished, turning and looking up at him, arms still crossed over his chest. "Okay, I think I've got the gist of this now, Jefferson." He absentmindedly runs his tongue over his abused bottom lip before reaching his hand up and rubbing it a bit. He raised an eyebrow at Thomas after dropping his hand, leaning his head to the side.    
  
"You can get out now, Thomas. I know it may not seem like it, but I'm perfectly capable of taking a shower by myself. Of course.." He trails off, smirking slightly. "You're more than welcome to join me, if you want." He offers more jokingly than anything, shaking his head afterwards and laughing slightly. 

He has to physically force himself to only look and not touch, but he can’t keep his eyes off of Alexander. He’s so damn beautiful, and he’d be even more beautiful choking on his dick. “Ew, I’ll pass. Shower sex is much less hot than it sounds. It’s slippery and I just about fell and gave myself a concussion once.” He leaves with a final kiss, though it’s more a soft brush of his lips over Alexander’s forehead than a proper make out session. 

"Yeah, I was just joking about shower sex, so don't worry. I'm not trying to die with a dick up my ass and my head busted open. That's not ideal. No, but for real, you can head out now. I won't be long. Just make sure I have clothes and stuff once I finally get out." Alex hums, waving his hand at the door dismissively. He watches Thomas leave with wide eyes at the gentle kiss to his forehead, a stark contrast to the beforehand rough makeout session. 

He has to dig through the deepest pits of his closet to find something small enough that it wouldn’t immediately fall off of Alexander. The thought of Hamilton just about drowning in his clothes is all too adorable. He knocks on the door quickly before stepping inside the bathroom.

Alexander bites his lip, nodding simply in response as the man walks out again.   
  
“I’m gonna set this on the sink, okay? I have a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet, feel free to use it.” He leaves without really waiting for a response, sitting on the edge of his bed with flushed cheeks. He’s not embarrassed.   
  
It takes longer than Alex expects to finally get finished showering. After not bathing for a good few days, he actually spends time making sure every single inch of his body is lathered in Jefferson's soap, the same one with the smell Alex actually finds himself entranced by anytime Thomas passes him before he has to force himself to keep from jumping on Thomas. He washes his hair thoroughly before conditioning as well, taking a good amount of time to stand under the spray under the water before finally stepping out. He dries himself quickly before pulling the clothes left out for him on, sighing as he looks himself in the mirror, the shirt slipping off his shoulder easily. He simply shakes his now only slightly wet head before making his way out.    
  
He walks out into the room, a satisfied smile on his face as he spots Thomas. He stretches, listening to the satisfying pops of his back. "You know, Thomas. I think I'll just start coming over and using your shower when I need to. It honestly has some of the best water pressure I've ever felt." He hums, leaning his head to the side as he looks at the other man. "Miss me? I know the lack of my amazingly opinionated rambling surely caused your utter boredom." He grins.

Thomas’s eyes snap up when he hears Alexander exit the bathroom and his breath comes up short in his throat. “You look absolutely gorgeous. Have I ever told you that? You have… Such a nice face. It makes me feel so happy when I look at it, especially when you’re smiling. You’re so pretty. You should smile more.” He hums softly, standing up to cup Alexander’s cheeks and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “ And I’m so glad that you think that my shower is so nice. It was expensive as shit, so…” He giggles softly, suddenly very flustered by this hot guy in his clothes that smells like him and- It’s just dream-like, almost. “And I did. If I didn’t have you here to rant and rave at me, what would I do, hmm?”   
  
“So, how do you want to… How do you want to do this? Do you want to be on your back, or on your hands and knees? How rough do you want to do it? Could you maybe- Never mind.” He doesn’t want to freak Alexander out with his last question. He’d just laugh at him. He won’t let himself be laughed at. “Your hair is so soft…” He runs his fingers through it, trying to shift the topic of conversation from his strange sexual desires.

Alex leans his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing as he looks up at Thomas. He practically purrs at the feeling of fingers running through his hair, leaning more into Thomas' touch, his eyes fluttering slightly. He bites his lip and shakes himself out of his semi-trance, looking up at Thomas more sober once more.    
  
"What were you gonna ask, Jefferson? It won't be any fun for either of us if you don't tell me what you want." He presses his hands against Thomas' chest and moves a bit closer, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I'm quite frankly okay with any and everything you do to me. So whatever you want, just tell. Your wish is my command." He giggles softly at the cheesy line, shaking his head.   
  
He takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, chewing it as his eyes scanned over Thomas' face, observing each feature eagerly. The curve of his eyelashes, the upturn of his nose, the neatly trimmed beard and sculpted jawline. The plump lips that Alex honestly wouldn't mind between his teeth at the moment. He leans his head to the side as if waiting for Thomas' original request he stopped short of saying.

“I was, um… I was going to ask if you would call me Daddy. It’s weird, I know, but I… It’s something that I’ve always kind of liked. And we’ll probably need a safeword or something if you want to be kinky about all of this. You’re going to have to answer the rest of my questions, too.” Thomas sighs softly, sitting back down on the bed.

Alex's breath hitches and his eyes widen, soft flush making its way onto his cheeks. He feels himself twitch a bit in the borrowed boxers he was wearing at the idea, a soft breath leaving his lips. He watches Thomas sit on the bed and listens to the man speak almost as if in regret and before Alex knows it he's shaking his head and sitting beside Thomas. 

“You can leave if you think that I’m weird or perverted or something. Don’t feel like you have to indulge in my weird-ass kinks just ‘cause you took an awesome shower at my house.” He squeezes his eyes shut and sort of curls in on himself. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have just had very vanilla sex with Alexander and called it a good night.   
  
But Alexander would be so pretty calling out ‘Daddy’ like a prayer on his lips, crying out a mix of curses and his name, until the only thing that he can remember is the feeling of being fucked hard and fast and rough.   
  
"Jefferson. Hey. No. I, uh, I'm perfectly okay with that. As a matter of fact, I have a bit of a daddy kink, so it works out fine.." He speaks a little quieter on the last part, laughing sheepishly. He presses himself to Thomas' side and leans his head against his shoulder with a hum. "I don't think you're weird and perverted. As a matter of fact, I bet I'm kinkier than you. So don't even try that mess." He smiles slightly.  "Ask me your questions, Thomas. Let's figure all of this out and we can enjoy ourselves and do whatever makes us happy, alright?" He speaks softly though not as if pitying him, raising his head off of the man's shoulder and looking at him expectantly.

"What, we're going to have to argue about who's kinkier, too? I guarantee that it's me. There's shit that I've done that would make your pretty little head spin." Thomas pulls Hamilton into his lap and kisses him softly. "You're so damn gorgeous. I mean... You're colossally wrong about a lot of things, but you're very attractive. And you have absolutely no idea how long I've been wanting to do this. To get you in my bed and fuck you until you can't even remember your own name." He kisses Alexander more similarly to how he had in the bathroom, rough and almost claiming.   
  
"What position to you want to be in? I like missionary so I can see you, but it'll probably feel better if you're on your hands and knees. At least, that's what I've heard. I've never actually bottomed or anything." Thomas laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing Alexander's thighs. "Is there something special that you want me to call you? Baby boy or baby girl or whatever? I absolutely will."

Alexander hums, wrapping his arms around Thomas' neck and leaning his head to the side. He bites his lip in thought, tapping on his wrist as a sort of mechanism, always needing to move in some way.    
  
"Put me in whatever position you want me in. Missionary? Yeah. Hands and knees? Go for it. It's honestly whatever you want, Jefferson. I want you to lead and take control. Just let me give myself up to you, okay?" He looks at him with slightly lidded eyes, leaning forward to lightly nip at his lip before pulling back with a small smile.    
  
"Well, considering I'm used to being called a dirty slut in bed, the fact that you're offering to call me something sweet and endearing is honestly too adorable." He laughs softly and pinches Thomas' cheek in a teasing way. "But if you really want to call me something, baby girl or baby boy is fine. Babydoll, kitten, honestly anything to your liking. I'm not picky." He smiles.

"Then... The safeword is going to be Washington. He should ruin the mood, right? I'm not going to be tying you up and branding your buttcheeks," Thomas pauses with a small smirk. "yet, but it's important to me that we have one. I have a personal code of conduct when it comes to kinky sex, and that's one of my rules."   
  
He glares when Alexander pinches his cheek, tightening his grip to the point of probably being uncomfortable. "If you ever fucking patronize me again, you'll be over my knee so quickly your empty head will spin." His entire demeanor changes completely. He even changes his accent - it's rougher, more prominent than his relatively mild southern drawl.

Alexander's eyes widen and his breath hitches at the sudden change, a bit of shock making its way onto his features as his mouth drops open slightly. His back tenses, though not defensively, more of in a way of surprise. He slowly licks his lips, eyes flashing from Thomas' eyes to the others lips, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. 

"Now, what am I gonna do with you, hmm? My plan was too fuck you right away, love you so sweet you couldn't take it, but apparently, your attitude has other plans for you." He eats his hand on Alexander's crotch, a heavy weight. He isn't doing anything yet, not really, just touching him in the loosest definition of touching.

Alex gasps, flush deepening on his cheeks and wide eyes resting on Thomas'. He whines after a good few moments as the hand doesn't move and he realizes it probably won't be moving. He whimpers, bucking his hips up against Jefferson's open palm to create much needed friction for himself. He leans forward, chest pressing to Thomas'.   
  
"God, Thomas. Do something. Don't just sit there like a fucking bump on a log. Come on." He whines, looking up at the man with needy eyes, hips still trying to find pleasure in grinding against the hand resting against him.

"Good Lord, just shut your damn mouth. It's not for talking, and I'm not sure where you got the idea that it was. You have to be a brainless little slut if you think that you get to make demands." Thomas, after a moment of deliberation, draws his arm back and backhands Alexander, hard. "You'll speak to me with some goddamn respect or I'll gag you. I'm not afraid to hurt you."

Alex sat with his hand holding his cheek after he was hit, shock gracing his features as tears sprung to his eyes at the stinging pain to his cheek. He bit his lip as Thomas got up to grab whatever it was he was grabbing, and he sat perfectly still, still in a good bit of shock.    
  
Thomas makes quick work of stripping both of them down, carelessly tossing their clothes in whatever direction he finds most convenient. "Pretty little thing. It's always the pretty ones that are stupid little sluts. Can't think about anything but cock and getting fucked. What do you think? Should I fuck you? Scratch that, I don't actually give a shit." He leaves Alex where he sits to retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom from his bedside table.    
  
"Don't want to hurt you so bad that I break you, especially if I decide that I ever want to use this cute little hole of yours again." He smirks, coating two fingers in lubricant and pushing them inside Alexander all at once.   
  
Alex's eyes snap to Thomas as the man moves back over to him, breathing labored, though not from fear or pain. From arousal. He watches as he coats the two fingers, seemingly at a loss for words. That changes as the two fingers are suddenly shoved inside of him and a rugged yelp is leaving his lips, hands flailing and reaching to claw and grip at the sheets, back arching off the bed.    
  
"Fuck, God, shit! Thomas, oh my God, fuck.." He shouts, his hole clenching down tightly around the fingers, twitching at the sudden intrusion in an attempt to get used to it. "Oh my God, warn. Me." He whispers, hands fisted so tightly in the sheets his knuckles had gone white, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his toes curled. He squeezed his eyes closed, taking shaky breaths as he attempts to make himself adjust. "Don't you dare fucking move." He practically growls out, breaths still coming in short huffs.

"You have such a filthy mouth. I should wash it out with soap. And I do believe that I can do whatever the fuck I want, so I'm not quite sure why you're even speaking." Thomas does keep his fingers still, though. He doesn't want to hurt Alex in any serious way. "You should always be like this. This is what you were born for."   
  
He hasn't done anything like this in so long. He probably hasn't had sex in... Two months? That sounds about right. The last person he'd brought home had been a barely-legal boy who was innocent and inexperienced. He did look quite a bit like the work of art that's spread out underneath him, though. 

Alex allows himself to relax a bit more, letting his brain go into practical auto-pilot, arrogant and head-stronger demeanor finally falling away. He whimpers, looking at Thomas with half lidded eyes.    
  
He makes quick work of stretching him out, but he's careful and uses plenty of lube. "You're such a little slut. At least now you're not running your mouth about shit that nobody cares about in the slightest. This is honestly quite the improvement." He grins almost mockingly, leaning down to kiss Alexander, hard.   
  
The kiss is intoxicating to him. He kisses the other man back with as much passions and strength he can muster, reveling in the clashing of teeth and tongue, soft sounds leaving his mouth every few seconds, being practically muffled by Thomas' lips. He finally turns his head away, heaving in breaths in gasps, soft pants falling from his lips. He manages to calm his breathing as quick as possible, swallowing.    
  
"God.." He gasps out, biting his lip. He slowly turns his gaze back up at Thomas, eyes wide. He's so hard at this point he doesn't quite feel like he could really take much more of the foreplay, and his mouth stays open as he continues to pant slightly. "I'm sorry, daddy." He whispers, chest rising and falling a bit more than normal. "Just..fuck me. Please? That's all I want." He keeps his gaze locked, cheeks dusting a deep red.

"I'll take care of you, I promise. Damn, baby girl. You look so... You look so amazing like this." Thomas grins, rolling a condom down his shaft and absolutely slathering himself in lube before pressing into Alexander, slow and steady. He's unbelievably tight, warm and clenching around him. 

Alex almost goes to respond when he feels Thomas start pushing in, and his words are quickly lost on his lips as they're replaced with a gasp and random sputters of sounds. His eyes squeeze closed and his mouth drops open, eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his forehead. He’s so  _ big _ .   
  
"Fucking you is like fucking a goddamn keyhole. Why didn't I do this sooner? I don't know how I've held out this long. You're so pretty and you're a damn good fuck. Your lips are so sweet and I'd like to see how it'd feel with you choking and spluttering around me." He nips at Alex's bottom lip, pulling back with a smirk.

He whimpers, leaning his head to the side and panting softly, eyes slowly opening to look up at Thomas in a half-lidded state. "I-I hate to burst your bubble, but the possibility of me-agh!-choking is very small. My gag reflex is almost non-existent. Have fun with that fantasy." He shoots back in an attempt to keep some slight dignity, though still panting from arousal, squirming slightly beneath Thomas.    
  
"What do you think, should Daddy let his baby boy come? Hm?"   
  
"Y-yes. Need to come. Need to come so bad. Let me come." He gasps out, looking up at Thomas pleadingly.

Thomas starts slow, but he loses any restraint he might have had fairly quickly. He's fucking in and out at a ridiculously rough pace. "How are you this perfect? How can anyone possibly be this perfect?" He groans, capturing Alexander's lips in yet another bruising kiss.   
  
He wraps his hand around Alex's cock, jerking him gently in time with his thrusts. It's too much and he actually whines, coming hard. Probably the hardest he'd come since his first time, all those years ago. After he's gotten Alexander off, he pulls out and moves to the trashcan near his bed. He cleans himself off and tosses the condom, going back to the bed with a content smile.   
  
"I hope that you like post-coital cuddling, because I do and you're not going anywhere." Thomas wraps his arms around Alex and hums, pulling him close.

Alex lays out on the bed, as Thomas moves away from him, in a blissed out state, eyes practically closing already and heavy and harsh pants falling from his lips. He doesn't make a single show that he might move, feeling as if he could actually go to sleep right then and there.    
  
He lets himself be pulled against Thomas, still breathing heavily, and mind actually seeming a bit fuzzy and almost empty from his burst of pleasure. He happily presses to Thomas' side, resting his head on the man's chest, listening to his heartbeat, finding the sound soothing. "Perfectly okay with this." He whispers.

“I’m glad that you’re okay with all the cuddling or else I’d probably just have to use you like a teddy bear when you’re sleeping. Since you never did get to eat tonight, you’re going to have to do it in the morning, deal?” Thomas presses a soft kiss to Alexander’s temple, situating them under the covers. “Last call for the bathroom, because there’s no chance that I’m letting you up for the rest of the night.” He laughs quietly at his own joke, a deep and rumbly sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest.   
  
"Thank you." He rasps out, snuggling the side of his face on Thomas' chest before going still again. "That was honestly..just thank you. For that and helping me." His voice is already taking on a tone of drowsiness, due to him always being tired post-orgasm, and he purrs.

When Alex thanks him, he can’t help but frown. “Thank you for what? I should be thanking you, that was the best sex I’ve had in… Actually, that’s the best sex I think I’ve ever had.” He bites his lip and holds the other man a little tighter.

Alex actually laughs a bit at Thomas' words, shaking his head as he looks up at him. "You're welcome for this obviously amazing piece of ass, then." He joked, grinning up at him before placing a soft kiss to Thomas' chest, considering he didn't feel as if he had the energy to squirm his way up to actually kiss him or anything.    
  
“Now it’s time for the both of us to get some sleep, because I’m tired as fuck. You think that bottoming is hard work? Topping is like riding a guy, but ten times more exhausting. I swear to god that my legs have actually turned into jelly.” Thomas finds himself absolutely fascinated by Alex’s hair, working his fingers through the knots.   
  
He raises an eyebrow, smiling. "In that case, I'll just ride you next time, alright? So you don't have to be sooo tired." He teases, bringing his leg up to lay across Jefferson's lap and using his arm to lay across his stomach, cuddling Thomas like a koala.    
  
"Goodnight, Jefferson. If you wake up before me, and that's a big /if/,  I expect coffee to already be brewed. Or you could prepare to face absolute hell. It's your choice, really. Except it's not." He giggles a bit before letting his eyes flutter closed, a him leaving him.

Thomas can’t help the content smile that makes its way onto his face when Alexander wraps pretty much his entire body around him like that. He’s so warm, and it feels amazing to not be so lonely in this big-ass bed in this big-ass bedroom in this big-ass apartment. He knows that this probably won’t happen again, though he can’t stop himself from wondering what it would be like to wake up to Alex every morning, sitting at his dining table and reading a newspaper while he’s drinking coffee. Or what it would be like to wake up to him on his phone, with the light from the window making him practically glow. What it would be like to go back to Charlottesville and introduce his parents to ‘My boyfriend, Alex’ at Christmas. His mother would show Alex embarrassing baby pictures and his father would sit him down and give him a talk about marriage and being respectful and ‘treating that boy right’. Anna would braid Alexander’s hair and Lucy would probably paint his nails.    
  
He knows that none of that will come from this, though. Maybe they’ll sleep together again, maybe they won’t, but they’ll never really be together. They couldn’t be together. Work would put too much of a strain on their relationship and arguments over political issues would dominate their home life. They’ll go back into the office tomorrow and they’ll probably never bring this up ever again.   
  
“I’ll be sure to have coffee waiting for you in the morning. You take yours black, right?” Thomas forces those thoughts from his mind and runs his hand down Alex’s back. Shortly after that, he succumbs to sleep, having pleasant dreams of a family and maybe a dog. Damn him for falling in love far too quickly.

They fall asleep with Alex in his arms.


End file.
